


Imperfect Motherhood

by momijizukamori



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momijizukamori/pseuds/momijizukamori





	Imperfect Motherhood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsOzma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsOzma/gifts).



"Awww, look at them, they're so cute!"  
Roxy is practically squealing, perched on a chair by the large windows that make up one wall of her hive's main block. You make a vague affirmative noise, but don't look up from your careful row of stitching. You find her 'people watching' a little voyeuristic - or the glee with which she goes about it, anyway - but the afterlife has turned out to be a surprisingly boring place, and you both need *something* to pass the time. In a way, that was why you were here with Roxy at all - your dreambubbles had stuck together for longer than usual, and she had insisted, all bright smiles and wide gestures with her hands. She had declared your hive - a selection of bits and pieces of all the places you had stayed, good or bad - practically inhospitable, and you have to admit that her's is rather nice, full of colour and light. You had always liked those more than most trolls. And Roxy doesn't seem to mind that she does almost all the talking, seemingly content to simply have someone to listen.

"You know, your daughter looks just like you," Roxy adds, still watching the other dreambubble out the window. You look up from your sewing, only half-listening.  
"Hm?"  
"Right there! With my Rose." She points out the window. You're already looking up to the window before you realize what she must mean, and a glance confirms it. "You mean my descendant."   
Roxy nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, your daughter!"

You shake your head, bemused. "For humans, 'son' and 'daughter' refer to social bonds formed by nurturing and raising an individual, as well as biological ties, correct?" Some of the humans you had met in the dreambubbles had explained this concept to you, as well as that of sibling-hood. Roxy for her part nods, though she seems uncertain where you're going with this. You aren't surprised - you had gotten the impression she hadn't met many trolls so far. "We have a different system of reproduction, and we do not carry or raise our offspring - in fact, it is very rare to even meet one's descendant or ancestor, and only ever happens in the highblood castes. So Kanaya-" you nod at the jadeblood troll in oblivious pair "-shares my genetics, but she was born after my death." Truthfully, you are surprised you have any descendants at all - any of you, really, and Kankri in particular. But you had seen a troll with his same small horns and broad face, his sign that of the Sufferists in hemonymous gray in one of the dreambubbles, even if you hadn't been able to bring yourself to talk to him.

Roxy looks slightly crestfallen by this revelation. "So... trolls don't really have 'families', then, do they." 

You nod, and then say, "For the most part. I... was an exception to that, though." You allow yourself a wistful smile - though there were many hardships you faced as a group, you wouldn't change a single moment of it.

Roxy latches on to this like a lifeline, clearly eager to have something to talk about with you. "Oh?" The faux-casual tone of her voice is belied by the bright curiosity in her eyes.

You are silent for a moment, deciding if you should share this piece of yourself with her. There are still sharp, jagged edges to the feelings, even after all this time, but you haven't brought yourself to really talk about them with anyone, yet. Maybe it's time.

"I was assigned to work in the brooding caverns," you say, finally, hoping not to get derailed into an explanation of troll reproductive biology. "There was a newly-hatched troll who had a blood-colour mutation - which is a trait designated for culling. I should have turned him in, even if I could not bring myself to perform the task."

"But you didn't," Roxy prompts, and you shake your head. "I didn't - I took him and left to raise him myself, even though if anyone found out it would have been death for the both of us."

"Wow, I never imagined you for a rebel! You seem more like the PTA type - bake sales and petition drives and all that."

You raise an eyebrow in obvious confusion, and she laughs a little and gives a little dismissive wave. "It's a human thing. Or an American thing, at least - lots of putting on appearances and being very proper about things and all that. I was... well, I was good at faking it, I guess." There's a sadness in her voice at the end that catches your attention, but you don't want to pry.

"Anyway," you continue, "We fared well for a number of sweeps, even as inexperienced as I was at taking care of a child. We encountered a feral child, when Kankri was three or four sweeps old - her lusus had died, and she had been living on her own, living off what she could kill or find in the forests. She ended up joining us, too - becoming a part of our family." Though you had never quite told her in those words - but Meulin had been a girl of instinct, particularly when it came to feelings, and you think she had understood.

"We took in an escaped slave, too - a psionic who'd been used all his life for his powers. He could be a nuisance sometimes, but usually a welcome one."

Roxy sighs wistfully, and rests her chin on one hand. "Sounds nice. A little scary maybe, but nice. I bet you were a good mother. I was never much good for Rose, I think - wasn't cut out for it. That's the problem with us humans - we get thrust into parenting whether we're suited for it or not, most of the time." 

"Rose is my descendant's...." You pause, searching for the human word for 'matespirt'. You'd had a very educational, if profanity-heavy, discussion on the distinctions between human and troll romance with one of the young humans you'd encountered in an earlier dreambubble, but the terminology is escaping you.

"...Girlfriend?" Roxy supplies, and you nod. "Yeah. She's my daughter, though we never really got along. She's probably happier without me."

"She reached maturity alive and unscarred, did she not? You protected her, at least."

This time Roxy's laugh is edged with hysteria. "You know, that's setting the bar pretty low when it comes to humans."

"Still," you press, "You care about her, as well. Many trolls don't even have that much."

"Have you ever considered that that's part of the reason you're always killing each other?"

That sends a stab of grief into you. "That... my son would say the same thing. He was always too kind, and believed others could be just as kind, if they'd see reason."

"Sounds like you did a good job, then."

You glance down at your abandoned sewing so you don't have to meet her eyes. "I tried. But I couldn't-" You stop, force yourself back from your feelings so as not to betray your strength. "He was executed. For treason. They tortured him, first." You feel almost like a spectator to your own words as they flood out, things you've thought about over and over but never voiced. "I watched. I watched and I couldn't do anything." 

Your voice cracks on the last word, and then Roxy is moving, the drink she was holding abandoned to a side table as she comes to sit next to on the sofa. She puts a hand on your shoulder, and you can feel the warmth of her body. All the humans are warm, as warm as rustbloods or warmer. Like your son was. 

That does it - you're shaking with silent tears, and Roxy shifts closer, moving her hand to rub small circles on your back. "It's not your fault - I know you would have done anything you could have to save him. Even if it meant taking his place. I'd have done the same if it were me." 

You laugh, shakily. "I think deep down, your daughter must know that, even if you think she doesn't. You haven't failed her."

She smiles into your shoulder. "Maybe. Maybe when this is all over we'll get a chance to do it again. To do it right." All you can do is nod in silent agreement.


End file.
